


Stammi Vicino

by MysticDodo



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alcohol, Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Body Dysphoria, Communication, Crying, Disordered Eating, Drinking, Drunken Confessions, Eating Disorder, Established Relationship, Love, M/M, Mental Illness, Please Don't Kill Me, Viktor has a half sibling, body issues, drunk, healthy relationship, it has a positive ending, this was hard to write, trigger warning, yurio's birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 20:44:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9459746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticDodo/pseuds/MysticDodo
Summary: Yuuri became the life of the party at the banquet over a year ago; a dance off, pole dancing, stripping... But for Yurio's 16th, a different side broke through and Viktor realises that there is still a lot about his fiance that he doesn't know.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was a hard write. It took a few days to read and edit, and even then there are no doubt still mistakes... I'm sorry about that. If you see any, please let me know and I'll edit where appropriate.
> 
> There is a TRIGGER WARNING for slight substance abuse and eating disordered behaviour.

Yuuri didn’t like to drink very much. Viktor, however, liked the odd glass or two of wine a week.

He still couldn’t believe the banquet where the silent, sorrowful Japanese skater blossomed into a confident, proud, eros radiating dancer. His Yuuri was full of surprises.

Viktor hadn’t been feeling too great the night of Yurio’s 16th birthday and stayed at home in his and Yuuri’s shared apartment, promising to make it up to the tiger at another time. Yuuri had gone with a nervous smile and a kiss, promising that he wouldn’t be too late home. “Maybe just a glass or two,” he replied when Viktor asked him if he would have something to drink. He encouraged casual drinking; after all, there was nothing wrong with letting your hair down once in a while! Goodness knows Yuuri deserved to relax; his fiance was always so hard on himself.

He was cuddled up with Makkachin on the sofa, only about three hours later, when his phone burst into life. He blinked at Mila’s name and answered. “Hey. What’s up?”

_“Viktor, could you come over to Yurio’s place? Yuuri needs you.”_

Immediately, the Russian skater moved off from the sofa and towards his bedroom. “Is Yuuri okay? Has something happened?”

_“He’s… er, he’s had a bit too much to drink. I think he really needs you here. He’s locked himself in the bathroom and keeps crying.”_

“I’ll be there in 15 minutes,” Viktor promised, grabbing his car keys as he shoved trousers over his pyjama bottoms and a hoodie over his head. He made it to Yurio’s grandfather’s house in 10 minutes.

There was obvious signs of a party. There were banners and birthday presents, food and alcohol. The music was turned down low and the Russian skating team were sat in a circle. Yurio was missing. Mila stood up when Viktor invited himself inside. “Where is he?” He asked the female skater. Wordlessly, she pointed up the stairs.

As Viktor climbed, he could hear Yurio’s slightly slurred voice. “- no, that isn’t true, don’t be stupid.” He assumed Yurio was trying to talk to Yuuri and, as Viktor arrived at the top, he saw Yurio sat outside what must have been the bathroom door. It was closed and Viktor could faintly hear Yuuri’s sob thickened voice. He was mumbling too low for Viktor to hear what he was saying but Yurio shook his head as though Yuuri could see him and spoke again. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

Viktor came up behind Yurio and knelt down beside him. Yurio blinked up at him, looking miserable. The two communicated in silence before Yurio shuffled to his feet, holding onto the wall. “Katsudon, I’ll be back in a minute. The door better be unlocked by the time I get back.” Slowly, cautiously, Yuri made his way down the stairs, leaving Viktor.

He was about to speak when the sound of his lover crying came through the door. Yuuri thought he was alone. The heartbreak in the sobs clenched at Viktor’s heartstrings and he tapped gently on the door to alert his lover to his presence. “Yuuri? It’s Viktor. Can you let me in?”

He heard Yuuri hiccup in surprise before another sob sounded. “V-Viktor?” the Japanese skater repeated. “Oh gods, they called you. I told them not to. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” And amongst the sobs, Viktor heard the tell tale sound of retching.

“Baby, open the door for me. I just want to know you’re okay,” Viktor said soothingly. He was expecting to stay there until Yuuri had exhausted himself but was surprised (and concerned) when he heard the sound of the lock turning. Standing, Viktor opened the door and - almost to his shame - his hand came to cover his nose. It smelt of alcohol and sick.

Yuuri had crawled back to the toilet bowl. It was full of vomit and around the rim, some splattered on the floor. Yuuri’s face was flushed but pale, fat tears escaping his red rimmed eyes and his lips and chin glistening with saliva. He looked like a state and Viktor knelt down beside him, placing a gentle hand on his back. Yuuri was shaking, trying not to sob and taking in wet sounding gasps. “I’m going to flush the loo, okay?” Viktor said, gently lifting off Yuuri’s forearms. He closed the lid and flushed. Yuuri had groaned in protest at the movement and leaned away from Viktor, a shaking hand pushing back his dark hair. “Do you have a hair band?” Yuuri mumbled a “no” and Viktor looked around. There was one on the windowsill and Viktor gently put his lovers’ hair into a high bob.

“Your hands are cold,” Yuuri somehow managed to say, pressing his forehead into Viktor’s palm. Tears were leaking down his face. “Why did they call you? I told them not to, that you’re ill. I’m sorry. You should go.”

“And leave you like this? No way, Yuuri,” Viktor said.

“But you’re ill and this is my own stupid fault,” Yuuri began to sob again. His hand was clamped firmly around Viktor’s though. “Why did you come?”

“Silly thing, I love you. My Yuuri needs me.”

“No, why did you come? Like, you’re ill and I’m an idiot and don’t deserve you and-” whatever he said next was cut off by a sudden, violent heave. Viktor hastily lifted the lid and barely missed having a splatter of what looked like stomach bile cover his hand. There were dark, brownish bits in it too. “I’m so sorry,” Yuuri wailed, spitting a few times when he was done. “Oh gods, I’m so sorry.”

Viktor placed a hand on Yuuri’s back, rubbing in slow circles. “For getting yourself in this state, you should be,” Viktor chastised gently. “I thought you were only going to have a few?”

“Shots came out,” Yuuri hiccuped. “And I just wanted the thoughts to stop.”

“Thoughts?”

“The thoughts. I want them to leave me alone,” Yuuri declared miserably. “Why can’t they leave me alone?”

“Baby, I don’t understand. What thoughts are these?” Viktor asked, frowning.

“The thoughts, the thoughts,” the Japanese male said, waving a hand. “I’m not good enough, what am I doing, it’s all been a waste of time, I’m a waste of space and not good enough and one day everyone will see that and leave, just like before. Everyone always leaves,” Yuuri began to cry in earnest again. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, darling,” Viktor squeezed him gently with one arm. “Listen, I’m going to get you some water okay? I’ll be right ba-”

“No, you said you wouldn’t leave!” Yuuri grabbed his hand, half falling over it. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Yuuri’s breath began to hitch and Viktor sat down again, pulling his love into his chest, no longer caring about the fact that Yuuri was splattered in his own vomit.

“Breath, baby.” He commanded. “You’re making yourself feel worse. Breath.”

“I… I can’t,” Yuuri cried out, his hands bunching Viktor’s hoodie in his fists. “I can’t do this!”

“Yes you can,” Viktor said, turning on his coach voice. “You know you can. You’re in control. Breath with me. Three in… five out. Come on. Do it, Yuuri.”

“You’re angry at me,” Yuuri sobbed but he inhaled shakily and exhaled, his entire body trembling. His casual clothes, jeans and a new shirt he had brought just for this occasion, were rumpled. His skin had erupted into goosebumps. His glasses… ah, there they were. They were thrown to the side next to Yuuri’s jacket. Careful to keep in contact with his fiance, Viktor reached for a flannel and put cold water on it. It was difficult to ring it out with one hand but he did the best he could and placed it on the back of Yuuri’s sweaty neck. He moaned in appreciation, lowering his head to the edge of the porcelain thrown. Snot was running down from his nose and he wiped at it unsuccessfully.

“Yuuri, don’t do that,” Viktor sighed. He was slightly frightened and unsure, a little bit angry as well. He pulled off some toilet roll and placed it under Yuuri’s nose. “Blow.” He did so, pathetically, and followed Viktor’s instructions to wipe his face. He sat up but was slumped over, face clear from any signs of moisture.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Do you think you can handle some water, now?” Viktor replied. “You must be dehydrated.” Yuuri nodded and Viktor plucked out two toothbrushes from a pot and rinsed it out before filling to the top with cold water. Yuuri sipped it gingerly. They were silent for a few moments. “What were you saying to Yurio when he was outside the door?”

“Huh? I don’t remember… oh crap, it’s his birthday and I’m a puking wreck in his bathroom!” Yuuri began to wail again, tears falling down his face with renewed vigor. “Everyone is gonna hate me. I ruin everything!”

“No you don’t. They’re worried about you. I’m worried about you,” Viktor said softly. His heart was beating uncomfortably fast. He hadn’t seen this side of Yuuri; at least, not as raw as this. “You mean so much to all of us.”

“But why?” Yuuri choked. “Such a burden, a bother.”

“No you aren’t. Yuuri, I need you to finish that water. After that, we’ll go home and you can sleep this away.” Viktor said in his authoritative voice. His fiance was in no state to listen to reason. Carefully he heaved Yuuri to his feet. He swayed and held his head, falling ungracefully against the bathroom wall. Making sure Yuuri wasn’t about to keel over, he said, “give me a minute, okay?” The Russian flushed the toilet again and quickly cleaned up any specks of vomit he could find. Flushing once more and washing his hands he picked up Yuuri’s discarded glasses and jacket, slinging them over one arm as he fingered his car keys. Yuuri was crying silently again.

* * *

Ouch. The first thing that registered was that Yuuri’s head and eyes and throat and stomach… basically, his everything was hurting. He forced his eyes open. The room was dark, the heavy blackout curtains pulled across tight. Next to him, Viktor was fast asleep and, on the other side, a glass of water and a bucket… no doubt for puking into.

Gods, he felt rough. How had he gotten home last night? After the 5th shot he couldn’t really remember anything… he felt like crap, though. Carefully, hating how sick he felt, Yuuri got out of the bed and picked up the water, the cold liquid soothing his parched throat. Had he been puking at Yurio’s? His throat felt scratched.

Head pounding, Yuuri felt his way towards the bathroom and flinched when he turned the light on. Quietly shutting the door, he turned to face the mirror and frowned, leaning in close. His eyes were red rimmed and puffy and he had the weirdest hairstyle. Gods, how much had he had to drink?! No wonder he felt so grim… Turning on the shower, Yuuri climbed in gratefully and leaned heavily against the cool tiles. His stomach hurt and he was hungry. And his head, woah…

After he had washed his hair and body (and brushed the foul taste out of his mouth) and left the bathroom with a towel around his waist, he could smell something delicious. Viktor must have woken up. Anxious but unsure why, Yuuri quickly slipped on a dressing gown and padded towards the kitchen. Viktor was indeed awake and the heavenly smell was bacon. The Russian was humming softly to himself, Makkachin sat by his feet, no doubt hoping for scraps. Yuuri smiled softly at the scene and then cleared his throat softly. “Morning, Vitya,” he said. Viktor looked back at him with a half smile. “That smells good.”

“I have some juice for you as well,” Viktor said. “It’ll be done in a minute.” The sickness that had subsided slowly began to build inside Yuuri. Something was off. Muttering a thank you, he sat down at their table and sipped the orange juice, wincing at the disgusting mix of toothpaste and orange. After a few mouthfuls though, he pushed the glass away and rested his head heavily on his palm.

“You didn’t have to make breakfast, you know,” he pointed out. “Don’t get me wrong I’m grateful but…” Viktor just smiled at him but it wasn’t his usual heart grin. He placed down two bacon sandwiched in front of Yuuri and one for himself. They ate in silence but after soon Yuuri had abandoned one of the bacon sandwiches, not trusting his stomach anymore. Viktor was looking out of the window of their apartment, fingers tapping against his chin. He was frowning a little bit. “Hey… Viktor? I’m sorry if I woke you last night,” Yuuri said weakly.

“You didn’t wake me,” his fiance said, still not looking at him. “Do you not remember how you got home?”

“To be honest, most of last night is a blur,” Yuuri admitted. “I think I had a bit too much to drink.”

Viktor snorted, but it wasn’t one of amusement. At last, he turned his tired blue eyes onto Yuuri. “I need to talk to you.”

“Oh. O… okay?” Yuuri stammered. His heart felt like it was about to jump out of his chest. “I… what’s the matter?”

Shaking his head in silence, Viktor stood up and walked towards their sofa. Yuuri sat down next to him but not too close, sensing that the man didn’t seem particularly… happy with him. Viktor had his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together and his chin resting on them. After a few tense moments, Viktor spoke. “I came to get you last night.”

“… thank you. I… I guess that means I was in a pretty bad state?” Yuuri asked softly, hands breaking out in a sweat. He anxiously played with his fingers.

“I hadn’t seen you like that before,” Viktor continued in a low voice. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry. I… I didn’t hurt you or anything did I?”

“Not physically.” At this, Viktor unfolded on himself and shifted so that he was facing Yuuri. His eyes were shining as though glazed with unshed tears. “Yuuri, do you remember anything of what you said?”

“N-no,” Yuuri whispered in return, feeling his own eyes fill with tears. “Oh gods Viktor, what did I say?”

Viktor’s eyes clouded as he stared at a point past Yuuri’s shoulder. His voice took on a detached tone. “You were crying and had locked yourself in Yurio’s bathroom. Mila called me. When I got to you, you were a state, saying all sorts of things.” Yuuri’s heart was pounding uncomfortably fast and his throat was tight and sore. He watched to reach out, touch Viktor, but his hands were shaking in his lap and he didn’t dare. He kept silent though, mind going through all sorts of terrible scenarios. Was Viktor going to break up with him? Did Yuuri kiss someone else? What had he done?!

Viktor was the one who reached out and gently put a hand over Yuuri’s, stroking the knuckles. Hesitantly, Yuuri looked up and connected gazes with his fiance. Viktor looked so pained. He opened and closed his mouth a few times and, after clearing his throat, looked down at their rings. “I found out why you hated yourself so much,” Viktor said softly. “And what you do because of that self hatred.”

Yuuri thought it was him shaking but he was shocked to feel that it was Viktor as well. He squeezed Viktor’s fingers, thoughts rushing but he was unable to slow them down to think coherently. “I’m sorry,” was all he could say. “I… I don’t tend to drink a lot. I say things and… I’m sorry you saw me like that. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t want you to apologise to me. You should say sorry to yourself.”

“I… I don’t understand,” Yuuri whispered. At that, Viktor shoved himself away from the sofa and paced a few steps, running a hand through his silver locks. He was biting his lips, holding himself back. He was clearly struggling to keep himself calm. Despite his anxiety, Yuuri swallowed thickly. “Just… be blunt with me, Viktor. What did I say that upset you do much?”

“What didn’t upset me?” Viktor finally snapped. “I saw the man I love more than life itself crying into a toilet bowl, saying how he was nothing and pathetic and stupid and a failure and a mistake. I saw the man I’m in love with, the man I want to marry and spend the rest of my life with, _make himself sick_ but, but hey, it is no big deal because you used to do it ‘ _all the time_ ’. Yuuri, why? Why?”

Yuuri had frozen, eyes wide and wet. “I… said that?”

“You done it in front of me,” Viktor had trouble keeping his voice level. “We got here and you said you needed to be sick and proceeded to shove your fingers down your throat.” Viktor had begun to cry, tears falling thick from his eyes. “I had to pin you to the damned floor so you wouldn’t do it again. You were puking blood, Yuuri! Blood. But it’s like it didn’t matter to you.”

“What sort of blood? Was it red or… or black clumps?” Yuuri asked quietly.

“It wasn’t _anything to worry about_ ,” Viktor spat, obviously quoting him. “How often do you do it, Yuuri?”

Yuuri felt himself beginning to cry, shame and guilt burning in his veins. “I hadn’t done it for ages. It was just when I was struggling with my weight and stuff, it was never serious.”

“It was never serious?” Viktor threw himself on his knees at Yuuri’s feet, clutching at his hands. He was sobbing in a heartbreaking, ugly fashion. “Baby, I spent ages researching after you collapsed in an exhausted heap. Just doing it one time is enough to kill you! It disrupts your entire body chemistry. It causes all sorts of problems; digestive and your teeth, your hair, your _heart_ …”

Yuuri shook off Viktor’s hands and pulled his knees to his chest, hugging them tightly. He buried his head, trying to calm his panic. “I haven’t done it in ages,” Yuuri mumbled. “I promise. I won’t ever do it again.”

Viktor had pulled Yuuri to his chest and was crying into his hair, trembling all over. “You said you were bullied, that everyone teased you for your weight. Nobody believed you could skate or do ballet because of your figure and you… you hurt yourself. You said you felt inferior and like you were never good enough, that your parents spent so much money on home schooling you, sending you to private practice for your skating, and you couldn’t please them. You said you felt like a failure and you spent years making yourself sick. Years!”

Yuuri was crying heavily, clutching himself. “It was only a few times a month,” Yuuri tried to justify weakly. “I stopped when I moved to Detroit…”

“But began to purge a few days before the Grand Prix Finale after you found out that Viichan had died,” Viktor finished for him, his voice thick with sadness. He pulled back and gently pushed Yuuri’s head off his knees so that the two were having eye contact. “You began to binge and gain weight and puked even more when you left Celestino’s coaching. You didn’t see the point in not doing it anymore. You were never going to skate again.”

Yuuri’s face crumpled. “I said that?”

“Yuuri, my darling Yuuri…” Viktor said, thumb wiping away the torrent of tears flowing down Yuuri’s cheek, “You have so much talent. You never failed anybody! You don’t need to hate yourself. You never needed to hurt yourself… least of all because some stupid people couldn’t see your potential.”

“I let you down, though,” Yuuri whimpered, trying and failing to fold in on himself because of Viktor’s grasp. “I didn’t get gold.”

“The reason why I emphasis you getting gold is because I hope it motivates you. It isn’t a way to make you feel even more like crap. I’m proud of you in ways you can’t even imagine. Gold doesn’t mean anything,” Viktor insisted. “I wish you had said something…”

“You know I have anxiety,” Yuuri cried out, pushing Viktor back a bit and once again hugging his knees. “That isn’t new. You know I was scared that my failures reflected on you. You know all of that. None of this is new.”

“And that is a failure of me,” Viktor said, sounding defeated. “I… I didn’t truly realise just how bad your anxiety was. I didn’t know about the bullying… Yuko said about how you never really made friends and you felt uncomfortable around people but I didn’t know, Yuuri. I didn’t know! How was I supposed to know unless you spoke with me about it?”

“What did you want me to say, Viktor?” Yuuri growled out. “Hey guess what, I hate myself so much that I hoped I’d have a heart attack when making myself sick because I felt like everything I did was wrong? That I was taken out of mainstream schooling to be home-schooled because of the bullying? That I spent nights crying myself to sleep because I so desperately wanted to be an ice skater and I worked myself to exhaustion and guess what, even then I wasn’t good enough?”

“But you’re one of the top in the field!”

“I know that. I know I have talent and skill and I have enough medals to validate that. But don’t you get it Viktor? It’s the anxiety. It’s the damn thoughts! They plague me. They say, all the time, that I’m a failure. That I’m going to mess this up and you’re going to open your eyes and see me for who I am; a neurotic ball of patheticness. You’ll break off our engagement and you’ll leave. You’ll leave and I’ll be all alone!” Yuuri had stood up during his shouting, trembling hard. He could barely see through the tears. “I’m so scared that you’re gonna leave and, and, to be honest I wouldn’t even blame you. Not anymore. Not now that you know.” He placed his head in his hands and cried, falling back onto the sofa. He had no energy, no strength. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He hoped it was some sort of nightmare, some sort of terrible dream he would wake up from. In desperation and frustration he yanked at his hair but the pain told him he was awake and he yanked again and again, Viktor shouting something and trying to grab his wrists. Makkachin had started to bark. Yuuri couldn’t wake up. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be.

“I should pack,” he cried out, getting up again and pushing Viktor away from him. “I’ll be gone by the evening.” He started to walk towards their - no, Viktor’s bedroom, but was tackled into a bone crushing hug. “Let go of me!”

“Yuuri Katsuki, I promised to never take my eyes off you and I never will!” Viktor yelled into his neck. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m never going anywhere. You could go back to Japan and I’d follow you. I’d follow you wherever you went.”

“But why? Why?”

“Because I’m in love with you!” Viktor shouted, hands now on Yuuri’s shoulder. Their faces were inches apart, both sets of eyes bloodshot and red, puffy and swollen. “You’re perfect to me. You’re kind, funny, hardworking, dedicated and you’re so talented. You showed me what life is, Yuuri. You inspire me.”

Yuuri shook his head. “No, you’re just saying that-”

“What would I gain for just saying these things?” Viktor demanded to know. “Have I ever lied to you? No. And I’m not gonna start now. I’m so angry. Yes, I’m angry and scared but most of all I can’t believe how much you’ve struggled by yourself and I hate myself for not figuring any of this out sooner. I’m the one who failed, Yuuri. I failed as a coach and as your fiance. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Yuuri was still shaking his head in protest. “No, you haven’t done anything wrong. Don’t say such things!” But by this time Viktor had broken down, falling to his knees. He had his face pressed against Yuuri’s stomach, knees gripping tightly onto Yuuri’s gown. He was shaking all over. “Viktor?”

“I’m sorry, my Yuuri. I’m so sorry,” the Russian was sobbing. “I’m sorry for being like this. I want to support you but… but how? Please, let me in. Don’t push me away. You’ll never be alone again, Yuuri.”

They didn’t know how long the two was in that position, each crying and Yuuri petting Viktor’s soft hair, but eventually they both calmed down. Makkachin had crawled towards them, whining softly. Somehow, they managed to find their way back to the sofa, curled up tightly in each other. “I’m sorry, Viktor,” Yuuri eventually said. “If you want me to leave, I will go.”

Viktor’s hands tightened on Yuuri’s arm almost painfully so. “Haven't you been listening to me?” He asked in a low, gruff voice. “Where you go, I follow. You will never, ever, be alone again.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Screw the gold medal. Screw it all,” Viktor said, looking up into Yuuri’s eyes. “Your health is most important. Physical and mental. I’m sorry I didn’t understand sooner,”

“What?” Yuuri blinked, a frown beginning. “I’m not going to quit skating. No, don’t say anything. I… last night was a bad night. I don’t know what happened but I got triggered and drank too much and… and engaged in behaviours I hadn’t used in a long time. With you, I’m happier than I’ve ever been. You helped me and my skating career and I can’t repay you enough. I promised you 5 world championships, didn’t I?” he smiled softly but Viktor just looked troubled. “Please, Viichan, I’m sorry. But don’t ask me to stop skating.”

“You were going to stop anyway…”

“Perhaps I was. But things change. I want to skate with you again. I want to show the entire world our love,” He smiled a watery smile. “I want to be your husband. And I… I don’t want to have these thoughts anymore. I don’t want to be on edge thinking you’re going to leave at any moment,” Yuuri swallowed thickly. “It’s something I had thought about before but never had the courage to do. I was scared… but losing you, that scares me more so I’m… I’m going to ask for help.”

Viktor blinked at him. “You are?”

Yuuri nodded after a moment’s hesitation. “I… should have communicated with you better. You were my idol long before you were anything else and… and it’s still odd to think I can tell you things, things I haven’t told anybody else.”

Viktor reached a hand up and pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek. “You can tell me anything. I’m so sorry for how I reacted. I didn’t mean to yell or… or cry or upset you further.”

“I know.”

“… you honestly haven’t made yourself sick since moving here?”

“No. The thought has been there but… I didn’t do it.” Yuuri said softly. “You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”

“I… don’t know,” Viktor said honestly. “I think it would be important for Yakov to know. But ultimately the choice is up to you.”

“And the others? Do you know if I said anything to them?” Yuuri asked with a fearful pause. “Is Yurio really mad at me?”

Viktor smiled for the first time that morning, a soft one. “Well, your phone has been buzzing almost nonstop since I took you home yesterday. Yurio has even messaged me. To paraphrase, ‘ _tell Katsudon that he ruined my party and needs to make it up to me. And if the bastard ever needs to talk…_ ” Viktor chuckled before sobering up. “You’re loved and cared for, Yuuri. None is us see you as a failure, not in the the way your head makes you believe. Everybody makes mistakes. I… I haven’t really told you about my sibling, have I?”

Yuuri looked at him in surprise. “You have a sibling?”

Viktor’s expression was rueful. “A half brother. Yuuri?”

“Yes?”

“I love you so much.”

“And I love you too.”

Viktor placed his head against Yuuri’s chest. “Maybe it’ll be best if you don’t drink for a while.”

“I’m never drinking again,” Yuuri moaned. “In fact, if we could just stay like this forever, that would be fantastic.”

“I already told Yakov we won’t be joining practice for a week,” Viktor informed him. “He wasn’t happy but whatever. Your health is more important. You are important, Yuuri. And I will support you in any way you need me to. I promise you, I’m not going anywhere. You can’t scare me away.”

“And I will always have your back, no matter what,” Yuuri said softly, kissing the crown of Viktor’s head. “… would you help me ask for support?”

“Without hesitation. You are my love, Yuuri, my husband to be.”

Yuuri squeezed him. “And just so you know, you haven’t failed me. It was my own fault for not communicating any of this sooner. I should have more trust in you.” After a second, Yuuri’s voice took on a slight curious, teasing tone. “A half sibling, huh? Shall we have a day of junk food and share our deep, dark secrets?”

“Tomorrow? I don’t know about you but I’m exhausted…”

It felt odd, leaving a conversation half finished, but the break was needed. The two fell into bed and slept for most of the day. Yuuri felt rough; crying a lot, arguing and a hangover were not a fantastic mix. As Viktor slept, Yuuri stroked the soft silver locks and wondered, not for the upteenth time, how he had gotten so lucky.

_It won’t last_ , his mind reminded him.

Closing his eyes against the thought, Yuuri gently rested his hand against Viktor’s chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. _‘I will become stronger than my insecurities,’_ he promised to them both. It would be hard, almost impossible at times, but he had a reason to fight, a reason to try. Viktor may not truly know everything about Yuuri yet but at the same time, Yuuri didn’t know everything about the man he thought he knew inside out. A half sibling? Thinking back, Viktor very rarely spoke about his family…

Just before he fell asleep, wrapped up in Viktor’s scent and limbs, Yuuri’s last thought was; we learn and grow together. We are a team, a partnership, on and off the ice.

_I’m sorry Viktor._

_And… sorry to my body._

**Author's Note:**

> Mental illness is nothing to be taken lightly. As someone who also has an anxiety disorder (plus more) I relate to Yuuri. The inspiration for this fic came from personal experience, hence why it was hard (yet quite therapeutic) to write. 
> 
> If you feel you may have some problems with anxiety or emptiness, worthlessness and thoughts of "what's the point", self harm or suicide, know that there is help available. You deserve it. You are not alone. There is no need to feel ashamed. 
> 
> (think I need to write something fluffy now)


End file.
